Broken
by Badge177
Summary: Loosely follows 'Missing'. Carrot has recovered from his dreadful kidnapping and everyone is happy. But its effects have been far-reaching, and things don't stay normal for long... Rating for dark scene and mild language.
1. Chapter 1

﻿ 

**Disclaimer:** All Discworld characters belong to Terry Pratchett. I own nothing. I'm just inspired to write stuff Mr. Pratchett isn't likely to. No disrespect is intended.

**Author's note:** This story loosely follows 'Missing!" (see my profile) Although, it isn't strictly necessary to read that story first.

This story is dedicated to VimesLady, who taught me the true meaning of friendship without even realizing it.

**Broken**

**Chapter 1**

Carrot appeared to be taking his time climbing the stairs to Vimes' office. He was heavily laden with paperwork, but his progress seemed hampered more by the weight on his mind than by the armful of folders he was carrying; his big honest brow was creasing visibly under the strain. He stopped when he reached the top of the stairs and stood there for a moment with his hand on the doorknob. He closed his eyes, and for several moments appeared to have a private conversation with himself. Finally, he gave a small nod, opened the door, and went in.

Vimes was sitting at his desk looking over the previous night's reports. He looked up as Carrot entered, and gave him a broad smile.

"Ah, morning, Carrot. Just the person I wanted to see."

"Morning, sir," said Carrot. The usual cheerfulness was missing from his voice and he didn't look at Vimes as he spoke, he walked across to the filing cabinet and dropped the armful of folders on top of it. "I'll take a look at those a little later if you don't mind, sir," he said. "I don't feel much like doing it right now."

Vimes frowned and looked across to where Carrot was standing; he had his back to him, facing the wall. His head was hanging low.

"Everything all right, Carrot?" he said.

Carrot rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, actually, no, sir... There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about..."

"Oh?" said Vimes, slowly lowering the reports.

"Well, not so much _talk_ to you about as _tell_ you, really, sir. I've been meaning to tell you for a while, but... well, there never really seemed to be the right moment."

Vimes placed the reports carefully to one side.

"Well, I've told you before you can talk to me about anything, Carrot. What's troubling you?"

"Well, it's us, sir," said Carrot. "Our relationship..."

"Carrot, I don't think this is _really_ the right time—"

"Well, that's just it, sir," said Carrot wretchedly. "I don't think there ever _will_ be a right time. And it's not as if there's anything to discuss, really, so I may as well just come out and say it."

"Say what, Carrot...?"

"That it's over, sir."

It should have all been so simple, thought Carrot. All he had to do was have a quiet word with the commander and everything would be fine. That's how the Patrician had made it sound two days ago when he'd summoned him to the Oblong office...

"...Ah, Captain Carrot. Do come in. I'm so glad you could make it at such short notice. Please, take a seat..." The Patrician extended a welcoming arm.

"Thank you, sir," said Carrot, sitting in the proffered chair. He took off his helmet and placed it on his knees. "It wasn't a problem, really, sir. I thought I'd drop by in my lunch hour since you said this was more of a personal visit, rather than official Watch business."

"You came here in your own time?"

"Yes, sir. I thought it seemed inappropriate using the commander's time for personal matters, sir."

"You did?" said Vetinari, returning to his seat. "That was very... considerate of you."

"Like I said, sir, it's not a problem. Was it something important you wanted to talk about, sir?"

"Well, I was rather hoping to speak to you as a friend," said the Patrician, testing Carrot quickly for a reaction.

There wasn't one. "A friend, sir?"

"Yes, captain. You see, I wanted to talk to you about the commander."

Now, there was a noticeable squirm. "With respect, sir," said Carrot. "I'm not sure I should be discussing the commander behind his back, sir." His brow creased, and then he added, "not unless he knows about this, of course?"

"No, captain, he doesn't," said Vetinari calmly. "And for once, I would prefer it that way."

Carrot got up. "In that case, sir, I don't really think—"

"Captain, please sit down." The Patrician's tone was suddenly several degrees cooler. "The reason I've brought you here as a friend is because there's a certain matter that needs to be discussed. This matter concerns not only the commander, but also yourself. Now, there are two ways I can go about this and I think you'll find this way preferable. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir..." said Carrot, lowering himself slowly into his chair. "I think I get the picture..."

"Good," said the Patrician, placing his palms on the desk. "I do so hate confusion. Now, I'd like to make it clear that I didn't bring you here for a lecture, and I wouldn't be bringing the subject up at _all_ had it not been for the events of the past week..."

"It's okay, sir," said Carrot. "I have a feeling I know what this is about... it has something to do with my kidnapping, sir, doesn't it?"

"Yes, captain. It has _everything_ to do with your kidnapping."

Carrot bowed his head. "Sir, I realize what I did was foolish. But in future, I _promise_ to—"

The Patrician waved him into silence. "Captain, that's not why I've brought you here. What happened to you was unfortunate, but it wasn't your fault. What concerns me is the way in which the commander handled the situation."

"But, _why_, sir?" said Carrot, suddenly confused. "He got me back safely, sir, _everyone_ knows that!" He caught the look on Vetinari's face, and then added, "Didn't he, sir...?"

Vetinari rose slowly and moved around to the front of his desk. His expression was somewhat... pained.

"Carrot," he said gently. "Since you and the commander have become... involved, he's developed a serious disregard for his own safety. And, I'm afraid, it's forcing me to reconsider your relationship with him."

"But, _sir_!" said Carrot, emotion straining his voice. "You know that's not true!"

The Patrician held up a placating hand. "Carrot, I know how fond the commander is of you, and it's only natural he should want to protect you. But he has become reckless. And I find it unacceptable."

"The commander's _never_ been reckless, sir!" Carrot looked close to tears.

"Carrot, your loyalty to him is admirable, but you have no idea what he went through trying to get you back. He almost _died_ trying to protect you."

"_D-died_, sir?"

"He acted almost without thinking, Carrot. He charged headlong into the situation because _you_ were in danger. Don't you see, Carrot? It's this fondness he has for you that's _making_ him this way."

"Then this is all my fault?"

"No, it's not your _fault_, Carrot, it's human nature. Anyone would do the same." Vetinari sighed sadly. "But Commander Vimes _isn't_ just anyone, is he, Carrot? He's an important man. The city needs him. _I_ need him. I can't afford to lose him over something as..." He flourished his hand.

"...insignificant as our relationship?" Carrot finished for him.

Vetinari met Carrot's sad, blue gaze.

"Carrot, I wouldn't be appealing to you unless I thought it was necessary. But your relationship with him also makes you _responsible_ for him. If it's to continue, then I _must_ be assured of his safety."

"You could just order him to be more careful, sir," said Carrot hopefully.

Vetinari sighed. "You know he wouldn't listen to me, Carrot. Besides, I don't want him to know I'm involved. You know how he'd feel about my interference."

"So, what do you propose I do, sir?"

"Talk to him; make him see sense. He listens to you, I know he does."

"He won't want me acting as his nursemaid, sir."

"Then find some other way. Do whatever it takes. If you care for him like you say you do, then now's your chance to prove it. Save him from himself, Carrot. Do what you know is _right_..."

The words had resounded in his brain. "_Do what you know is _right..." And so he had done what he thought was right. But that hadn't made it any easier...

"O-over...?" said Vimes. He was still staring at him. He looked stunned.

"I realize it'll come as a bit of a shock, sir," said Carrot. "But you see, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was a mistake."

"A-a mistake...?"

"I mean we shouldn't have gotten so involved in the first place, sir. Not really..."

Vimes blinked, uncomprehending. Ice-cold fingers were twisting his insides. Suddenly, it became difficult to breathe; his chest muscles constricted; his intense feelings of discomfort prolonged by the fact that time appeared to be standing still. He grasped mentally for something to hold on to, but found nothing; his brain felt as if it was filled with cotton wool. Carrot was still talking, but his words weren't registering; he was speaking a different language, and everything seemed surreal...

"Sir?"

"I-I wasn't expecting this, Carrot..."

"No, sir, I realize that."

"I mean after everything you told me..."

"Yes, sir, I realize that too. And I meant everything I said at the time."

"A-at the time...?" Vimes looked up; his eyes were empty.

"It had to end sometime, sir. You always knew that."

"Well, yes, I know, but I thought—"

"Best not to think about it too much, eh, sir?" said Carrot. "It'll be best for everyone in the long run, you'll see." He turned away; the look on Vimes' face was unbearable.

Vimes' gaze fell to his desktop. He looked over it while he searched for something to say. He reached for the reports and slid them in front of him. He stared at them, his eyes unfocused, his hands lying flat on the desk.

"Well, that's the end of that, then..." he said numbly.

"I'm sorry, sir."

Vimes nodded.

"D-do you mind...?" he said. "I think I'd like to work on my own for a little while..."

"No, sir, of course not."

Carrot headed for the door, resisting the urge to turn around and look at Vimes; the door closed quietly behind him.

Vimes closed his eyes.

And the bottom dropped out of his world.

-o0o-


	2. Chapter 2

**Broken**

**Chapter 2**

Sergeant Colon was extremely rattled. His workload had increased considerably in the last 4 hours and he certainly wasn't being paid enough for _that_. What's more, Captain Carrot had left work early to visit the Patrician, and Vimes hadn't emerged from his office all day. And now, to top it all, Captain Noakes was suggesting he do unspeakable things in Cheery's office.

"Please, sergeant, just this once?" pleaded Noakes. "It'll only take a minute..."

"But it's _paperwork_!" cried Colon.

"It's an _iconograph_!" said Noakes. "And I'm only asking you to deliver it!" Noakes shook his head in dismay. And then, remembering some of the sergeant's _finer_ qualities, tried a different tack. "Isn't it almost time you went off-duty, sergeant?" he asked casually. "Why not sign out now and drop this off on your way home, hmm?"

Colon brightened up. "Well, you should've said it was _urgent_," he said, snatching the envelope from Noakes' grasp. "Why, I could've delivered this and been home _ages_ ago." He bustled down the corridor and into the front office; he signed out and tossed the pen back on the desk. "I reckon someone ought to wake the commander up soon, though," he added darkly, glaring at Vimes' office door. "'Cause then we'd _all _have a lot less to do, eh?"

"That's enough of that, sergeant," said Noakes sternly; he half-turned his head to follow the sergeant's gaze. "We all have to do a bit extra when we're pushed, you know that." His eyes remained fixed on Vimes' door as the sergeant's protestations faded into the distance; but he was only half-listening; he was wondering how much longer Vimes intended to stay in there...

-o0o-

"You did _what_?" said the Patrician.

"I ended it, sir." Carrot looked slightly disappointed at the Patrician's reaction. "I thought you'd be pleased, sir."

"But I thought you were just going to talk to him?"

"Well, I was, sir. But then I realized it wasn't that simple. I mean, you've said yourself what a suspicious... so-and-so he is, sir, and you did say you didn't want him to know you were involved. If he'd started asking questions, sir, you _know_ I wouldn't have been able to lie to him. No, it's better this way, sir. We have to be sure." Carrot suddenly looked incredibly sad, as if the enormity of what he had done had only just hit him. "I mean, it wasn't as if I _intended_ it to end like this, sir," he said quietly.

Vetinari stared at him, and then turned away. He was at a loss for words; and somehow, he found the look on the young man's face oddly... unsettling. He strolled over to the window and gazed out of it, while silently digesting the facts.

Several months ago, he had tried to bring about this very eventuality _deliberately_ for reasons he now considered selfish. Put simply, he'd been irked by the fact that Carrot played such a large part in Vimes' life, not only professionally, but also... personally. He'd been able to ignore it, however, since their relationship hadn't interfered with the normal running of things; quite the contrary in fact, Vimes seemed more relaxed now than he'd seen him in years. But he _was_ over-protective of the boy, and although he'd taken chances in the line of work before, there was a world of difference between a calculated risk and this... obsession to keep the boy safe. He'd almost lost his life because of it. It _couldn't_ be ignored...

"How did he take this... news?" said Vetinari, speaking over his shoulder while still gazing out the window.

"Quite calmly really, sir." Carrot was staring into his hands, lost in thoughts of his own.

"He didn't scream, punch the wall or hit anyone?"

"No, sir. Nothing like that."

"Oh, dear..."

-o0o-

A hand gently shook Vimes' shoulder.

"Sir?"

"_Hmm_? Vimes pried his eyes open and looked up. "Oh, it's you, Noakes..." He squinted at the concerned-looking face coming into focus. "What're you doing in my office?"

"It's almost 6 o'clock, sir. When you didn't come down I was beginning to get—"

"Good heavens, I must've dozed off."

"Yes, sir, I can see you've been busy." There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in Noakes' voice; he noted with amazement that Vimes' desk was almost clear of paperwork, even though Carrot hadn't been up there since this morning.

"Is Carrot still here?" said Vimes, as if reading his thoughts. He eased himself back into his chair and stretched, then he got up.

"No, sir, he said he had a visit to make at the palace, sir. And then he was making his way home."

Vimes nodded. "So, what are you still doing here?" he said, reaching behind the door for his coat. "First day back at work and doing overtime already?" Vimes checked in his coat pocket for something, found it, and then put it back.

"I was, er... just finishing up downstairs, sir. I just wanted to make sure everything was—"

"It's all right, captain, you don't have to apologize." Vimes gave Noakes a friendly slap on the back. "Well, I think we've both had enough for one day, captain, don't you? I think what _I_ need now is a bit of fresh air..."

-o0o-

Carrot turned the key in the lock and let himself in. He kicked off his boots by the door and then set about stripping off his armour. He picked up the mail, and was already opening the first letter as he moved into the kitchen.

"That'll be two sugars in mine, please," said a voice from behind him. "And let it stew for a bit, would you, you know how I like it."

Carrot spun around.

"_Sir_! How did you—?"

Vimes detached himself from the wall, dangling Carrot's spare key from his finger. "You said I could keep it, remember?" He dropped the key back in his pocket and glanced around the room. "I think I have a few other bits and bobs lying around too, if I remember rightly," he added sarcastically. "But I suppose I can come round later and pick up my stuff, eh?"

"Don't be like that, sir... It's not like you."

"You know, it's funny how you think you know someone, isn't it, Carrot?" said Vimes, dropping into the room's only chair. "See, yesterday I had you down for someone who would've jumped in the Ankh if I'd asked you to. I mean, the way you're always professing your love for me, I'd be hard pushed to believe otherwise, wouldn't I? And yet today, you're acting like I owe you money. What makes a person change like that, do you think?"

"Don't do this, sir..."

"And then I got to thinking, well, maybe I did something wrong," said Vimes, ignoring him. "I mean this kind of relationship is all new to me. Maybe I was supposed to be a real bastard, was I, Carrot? Is that how these things work? I mean, you tell me; you're the expert here. This relationship was all _your_ idea, after all."

"_Stop_ it, sir..."

"Or maybe you just wanted to see how big a fool you could make out of me, is that it?"

"That's _enough, sir!" cried Carrot._

"Well then, _explain_ it to me, Carrot!" said Vimes, flying out of his chair. "Tell me what I did wrong! Only keep it simple, Carrot, because you know how flummoxed I get!" Vimes could see he was upsetting Carrot, but he was unable to stop himself; he was angry and confused, and yes, _godsdamnit_ he was hurting, and right now he felt like spreading it around. "I mean I must've done something _really_ bad to deserve this, eh, Carrot?"

Carrot stared helplessly at the ceiling. "You shouldn't have come here, sir..."

"Well then, _tell_ me, Carrot! And I'll _leave_!"

Carrot closed his eyes; it was all going wrong. Vimes wasn't supposed to be here; he was supposed to just accept what had happened and move on. But he knew Vimes was here because he still cared. And Carrot realized Vimes would _always_ care, because deep down inside, he suspected Carrot still cared for _him_.

Suddenly, it all became clear. He knew what he had to do...

Behind his back he crossed his fingers.

"You didn't do anything wrong, sir..." he said. "I just don't love you anymore."

"What?"

"And I don't think you ever really loved me," said Carrot, as if adding weight to his argument. "I mean, how many times did you tell me, eh? Well, I'll tell you. It was just the once."

An icy fist reached in and tore Vimes' heart out. "But I risked my damned life for you, Carrot..."

"Well, you won't have to do _that_ anymore, will you?" said Carrot.

Vimes stared at him in disbelief. He shook his head. "Damn you, Carrot..." he whispered.

Carrot turned his back on him, and waited for the _slam _of the door.

It never came.

Vimes didn't bother closing the door as he left. The sound of his footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

Carrot waited for the sound of the latch.

And then fell to his knees and broke his heart.

-o0o-


	3. Chapter 3

**Broken**

**Chapter 3**

It was raining. Vimes didn't mind the rain usually, but today it did nothing to raise his spirits. He shook out his cape and entered the front office. Laughter suddenly exploded from a group of watchmen gathered around Colon's high desk. Vimes glanced over at them, and felt a sudden pang of embarrassment when he realized Carrot was among them. He turned his back and hung up his cape, wondering if he should've taken the day off. Then he caught the end of a joke he'd heard at least a dozen times before, and relaxed. He closed the door, chastising himself mentally.

Carrot turned to see who had come in.

"Sorry, lads, I'll have to go now," he said. "Duty calls." He grabbed a slim folder from Colon's desk and came over to greet Vimes. "Morning, sir," he said. "I have last night's reports here, sir. Not much to report really, sir, looks like the rain's had its usual effect."

Vimes took the folder without looking up. "Thanks," he said. He scanned the room, trying to avoid anyone's direct gaze. He found the person he was looking for in the corner, making himself a coffee. "Captain Noakes?" he called out. "Come up to my office when you have a moment, would you?"

Noakes looked up. He exchanged glances with Carrot, who merely shrugged. "Yes, sir, of course." Noakes left his mug where it was and followed Vimes up the stairs. He glanced back halfway up; somehow sensing that Carrot was watching him. He was right, he was. And then he was gone.

Vimes threw the reports down on his desk.

"I forgot to thank you for what you did yesterday, Noakes," he said. "Stopping on late, I mean." He motioned for Noakes to sit down.

"It was nothing, sir."

"Well, I appreciate it anyway," said Vimes. He sat down himself. "How's your shoulder now, by the way?"

Noakes' hand went automatically to where he'd been shot during Carrot's rescue. "It's fine, sir," he said. "Still a little numbness in the fingers, but the feeling will come back eventually, I expect."

Vimes nodded. "They tell me the bolt they pulled from you was silver-tipped," he said.

"Really, sir?"

"But then you knew that, of course, didn't you?" said Vimes, leaning back in his chair. "That's why they pulled it out of you and not Angua, wasn't it?"

Noakes didn't answer; he simply lowered his eyes. His expression was carefully blank, but under his lashes his gaze flickered around the room. After a moment, he looked back at Vimes. "You didn't call me in here just to talk about my shoulder, did you, sir?" he asked quietly.

"No, you're right, Noakes, I didn't." Their gazes lingered for a moment as they regarded each other, then Vimes reached for the reports folder and pulled it in front of him. He opened it casually and riffled through the reports. "Carrot seems to have recovered well...?" he said.

"Yes, sir."

"Physically, at least."

"Yes, sir."

"There's no telling how an ordeal like that might effect someone psychologically, of course."

"No, sir."

"How much do you know about us, Noakes?"

"Sir?"

"Don't play dumb, Noakes. You worked it out ages ago, didn't you?"

Noakes tried valiantly to maintain his impassive expression; he _almost_ succeeded. "I-I'm not sure what to say, sir."

"Just tell the truth. You're good at that, aren't you?"

"Well, I... sensed... something, sir."

"And the fact that you've never mentioned it to anyone means I can trust you, right?"

"Sir, your personal affairs are no concern of—" Noakes began, but something familiar in Vimes' eyes immediately told him it _wasn't_ the right answer. "Yes, sir," he said quietly. "You can trust me."

There was a subtle change in the atmosphere.

"Get on well with Carrot, do you?" said Vimes, pushing the folder to one side; his voice was softer now, almost conversational.

"Yes, sir. We... work well together."

"How about socially? Do you go drinking together after work, that sort of thing?"

"Er, no, sir. Some of the lads do, sir. But I usually go home."

"Not much of a drinker, then, Noakes?"

"No, sir." Noakes looked embarrassed.

"Well, that's sensible," said Vimes; his smile was reassuring, but humourless.

An awkward silence filled the room; the sound of muffled voices drifted up the stairs. The rain fell steadily outside the open window. And for a moment, Vimes thought how close he'd come last night to being _in_sensible...

He'd left Carrot's place in a stinking mood. The heavens had opened before he'd made it home, and he arrived at the house looking like a drowned rat. The maid seemed more concerned by the puddle in the hallway than by the prospect of him catching his death, and she gave him The Look. So he headed for the bathroom, purposely walking past the liquor cabinet, and pausing there... thinking of a time before the baby; when he'd felt useful, and not like a spanner in the works. Sybil seemed less than welcoming too. Later, when he'd crawled into bed wanting nothing more than a cuddle, she'd turned away from him complaining of tiredness; and he'd lain there, staring at the ceiling, muttering that it was all right when all the time he knew that it wasn't. And he'd drifted off to sleep feeling like a spare cog. Unwanted; no longer needed. Not only by Carrot, but not even in his own home...

Vimes reached for the folder again. "Does Carrot ever talk about me, Noakes?" he said absently.

"Yes, sir. All the time."

"He does?"

"Yes, sir. He says you're a fine man and an outstanding officer, sir." Noakes smiled.

"Is that all? He hasn't said anything else?"

Noakes shook his head. "No, sir."

Vimes toyed with the folder.

"Has Carrot ever lied to you, Noakes?"

"No, sir, never." Noakes watched as the folder was shuffled around the desk. "But... that doesn't mean he never would, of course," he added tentatively.

Vimes looked up. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, I just think if Carrot thought something was... _important_ enough..." Noakes swallowed, hoping he'd deduced correctly what Vimes hadn't actually said.

"Go on," Vimes prompted.

"Well, then I think there's a possibility he might lie, sir."

They held one another's gaze.

"You really think that?" said Vimes.

"Yes, sir. I do."

_But_ _this isn't important, _thought Vimes. _This is_ _personal_. _Which isn't the same thing at all_...

"That's interesting," he said. "And what else do you think?"

"Well... I think today might be a quiet day, sir," said Noakes, glancing at the slim folder. "So... perhaps if something's happened, sir, and you have... _other_ matters to attend to..."

"Then you'll hold the fort while I'm gone?"

"Something like that, sir, yes."

_Which is just another way of saying I'm not_ _needed_... Vimes thought glumly.

There was a long moment of silence.

"And you think you'd be able to manage that, do you?" said Vimes softly.

"Yes, sir, I'm sure I could. And I'd only be doing my job, sir, wouldn't I?"

_Yes, you would_, thought Vimes._ And if you do it as well as you normally do_, _I'm sure no one will even miss me_...

-o0o-

Carrot passed by the bottom of the stairs, trying hard not to look at his watch. Considering how few reports he'd handed in, Noakes was spending an awfully long time in Vimes' office.

Suddenly the door opened, and Vimes trotted down the stairs.

"Going out, sir?" said Carrot, noticing Vimes had his jacket on.

"Correct."

"Not out on patrol, surely, sir?" said Carrot, swept up automatically into Vimes' wake. "Only it's foul weather out there, sir."

"No, just taking back a few hours owed, Carrot, that's all."

"Oh, well, I'm sure no one deserves it more, sir," said Carrot, trailing anxiously behind him. "And, er, you needn't worry about a thing here, sir. I'll make sure everything is—"

"There's no need, Carrot," said Vimes, reaching for his cape. "Captain Noakes has everything under control." He threw the cape around his shoulders and fastened it tightly.

"He does?" said Carrot, glancing back up the stairs. "Oh, well, that's all right, then..." He gave a nervous little laugh. "You know, if I didn't know better, sir, I might think Noakes has become your new blue-eyed boy."

Vimes shot him a sideways glance. "Don't be absurd, Carrot," he said, as he yanked open the front door. "Noakes' eyes are green..."

-o0o-

It was later.

Much later. In fact, it was dark.

And it had stopped raining.

Vimes felt good.

And he still had over half a bottle of Bearhuggers left, which was even better...

Getting hold of it had been surprisingly easy. He knew the liquor cabinet at home would be well stocked; the servants replaced whatever was used at functions, and he knew where Sybil kept the key. She didn't even bother hiding it anymore. He'd simply reached in and taken what he wanted.

And he no longer felt guilty.

Once he'd taken the first sip, the rest had been easy. And the effects had been swift. The familiar warmth had spread through his body, taking away his guilt and his pain, but oddly enough, not his anger...

He wasn't even sure who he was angry with anymore.

It wasn't Carrot. Not really. Why be angry at Carrot for no longer loving him? Carrot couldn't help the way he felt. If anything, he ought to appreciate his honesty. It must have taken Carrot a great deal of courage to say what he'd said, and he'd never promised to love him forever. No, Carrot's love had been a privilege, not a right. And even _he_ knew he'd never been worthy of it...

Vimes took another sip of Bearhuggers and wandered over Maudlin Bridge.

Maybe he was just angry with himself, then? He certainly felt like a fool. But then, didn't someone once say love was a fool's game?

And it _had_ been love. He was sure of that.

And it had felt wonderful, hadn't it? Carrot had loved him completely, simply for being himself. For once in his life he'd actually felt _good_ about himself.

But now, Carrot had taken that love away, leaving nothing but a hole where something used to be...

Oh, he _could_ live without him. The truth was he didn't _want_ to.

He wanted him back.

He missed him...

Vimes took several large slugs of Bearhuggers and continued over the bridge. Then he turned left and wandered aimlessly along the bank of the river. Eventually, he turned right into Peach Pie Street.

From here the lights of the palace were visible.

And one small light in particular.

And suddenly, his anger found a focus...

He remembered one person who'd wanted this all along.

Oh, and he'll be _sooo_ glad it's over, won't he?

-o0o-


	4. Chapter 4

**Broken**

**Chapter 4**

Vetinari looked up from his desk. There was something of a fracas going on downstairs. He could hear raised voices.

One voice was clearly recognisable as Drumknott's, but the other was slurred and indistinct. It was, however, quite vociferous...

Vetinari waited.

Suddenly, Drumknott's head appeared around the door.

"I do apologize, milord," he said. "But Commander Vimes is downstairs, sir. He appears to be, er... not quite himself, sir, and he's insisting on seeing you. However, as far as I'm aware, sir, no appointment has been made."

Vetinari leaned back in his chair and stroked an eyebrow. "It's all right, Drumknott," he said, "I've been expecting him..."

"Sir?"

Vetinari sighed. "In other words, Drumknott, show him in."

"Yes, sir."

Drumknott turned, but Vimes was already in the doorway. He glared angrily at the clerk. "Why, you jumped-up little—"

"Ah, Sir Samuel," said Vetinari, allowing Drumknott time to escape; the clerk gave Vimes a wide berth and scuttled out, deciding that stopping to close the door properly was not a priority. "I see you haven't lost your proclivity for working late?"

"What?" snapped Vimes, lurching into the room. "I'm not _working_, sir! It's my day off!"

"You've taken a day off?" said Vetinari, spotting the bottle sticking from Vimes' pocket. "How... unusual. Any particular reason why?" He got up slowly and walked around to the front of his desk.

"Oh, I see, time to play silly buggers, is it?" snarled Vimes. "Don't tell me... could this be where you pretend you don't know what's happened, and I'm supposed to tell you everything, even though you know everything that happens in this city practically _before_ it's happened? My word, I believe it is." He looked around the room, swaying as he tried to focus. "Well, that's okay, sir, I think I remember the rules to this little game."

The Patrician's smile was strained. "Clearly my mind-reading abilities have been greatly exaggerated, Sir Samuel," he said. He grabbed a chair and placed it deftly beneath the commander's backside. "Here, I believe this is what you are looking for, Sir Samuel?" Vimes fell back without looking. "And now that you're seated, perhaps you'd be kind enough to explain what this is all about?"

"Oh, come off it, sir! Don't tell me Carrot hasn't already been up here spilling the beans! He knew as well as I did how bloody _pleased_ you'd be! I bet you had a right old laugh about it, didn't you? Oh, he earned a few brownie points for _that_, I expect, didn't he?"

"Sir Samuel, I'm afraid I have—"

"Oh, I'll _tell_ you what you have!" stormed Vimes. "It's a bloody _nerve_! See, I could almost forgive Carrot for that, sir, because he doesn't know any better. But _you_, you're different! _You _know when your actions are hurting someone, sir, and _that's_ not something I can easily forgive!"

The Patrician faltered slightly. "Sir Samuel, what I was _going_ to say was—"

"_What_? _What_ were you going to say? There's nothing you possibly _can_ say, sir, and you damn well _know_ it!"

"—was that I have _no_ idea—"

"No, and you never bloody well _did_, did you?" Vimes raged. "You had no idea about _any_ of it! You sit up here in your little bloody office, and all you can think about is the city. You don't care about _people_! It's bad enough that this had nothing to do with Watch business, but all the time Carrot and I were together, not _once_ did I neglect my duty! I did my job the way I've always done it and I've _never_ let you down! But did any of that matter to you? _No_. All you could think about was the fact that he _cared_ for me!" Vimes slumped in his chair and held his head in his hands. "Gods, _why_ do you hate me so much?"

The Patrician caught his breath.

"That boy meant more to me than you'll ever know, sir," said Vimes quietly. "He made me feel like I made a _difference_, sir. Don't you know what that feels like? I _believed_ in him. What have I got to believe in if I can't even believe in Carrot?"

There was silence.

Vimes wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Well, what does it matter anyway?" he said. "None of it matters anymore. It's over, sir. Just like you always wanted. Well done."

The Patrician's hand flew to his lips.

Vimes bowed his head. There was no anger left, just a terrible sense of defeat. He'd lost Carrot. And now, in all likelihood, he'd lost his job as well. He'd lost his pride and his sense of worth. And later, he was going to have to face Sybil. He'd have to explain why he'd come home rolling drunk. And if by some miracle she decided not to leave him, then come morning, he'd be left to pick up the pieces of what he jokingly termed his 'life'. And what had it all been for? For Carrot to tell him he loved him and then suddenly change his mind? Gods, he'd been a fool...

And still, the silence continued.

Vimes didn't look up; he didn't need to. He could imagine the look of disappointment on Vetinari's face. It finally crushed him.

"S-say something, sir..." he muttered. "Please?"

The Patrician shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know what to say, Sir Samuel..."

Vimes nodded. "It-It's okay, sir..." he whispered, "I understand."

He rose awkwardly, and stumbled...

...And suddenly found himself in Vetinari's arms.

Drumknott froze, his hand halfway to the doorknob. He'd been about to check in on the Patrician, but now he wished he hadn't. Through the half-open door, he could clearly see the Patrician and the commander embracing. The Patrician's face was nestled in the commander's hair, and he had a strange look on his face. He was inhaling deeply, almost as if he were... revelling in the man's scent.

Drumknott backed away, his mind racing. _Damn_ the man! Didn't Vimes know the Patrician and he had an _understanding_? No _wonder_ he'd been expected! Drumknott turned and headed down the corridor, wondering what Captain Carrot would have to say about _this_...

Vimes pulled himself upright. "I-I'm sorry, sir..." he muttered. "I-I should be getting home..."

Vetinari relinquished his grip. "Are you sure that's wise, Sir Samuel? In your present condition, I mean?"

Vimes looked up heavy-lidded. "What choice do I have?" he said haplessly.

Vetinari ached. In all the years he'd known Vimes, he'd never seen him looking so lost or alone. The words escaped his lips before he could stop them...

"Stay," he whispered. "I'll make the necessary arrangements."

A flicker of confusion crossed Vimes' face. "Why would you want to do that?" he said.

Vetinari's expression was unreadable.

"Why would you want to argue?" he replied.

-o0o-

Vimes fell onto the bed...

He was vaguely aware of his boots being removed. Then nimble fingers were moving about his clothing, loosening them and removing them too. Too drunk to resist and too tired to argue, Vimes simply closed his eyes. Within moments, he was snoring softly.

Vetinari continued, undressing Vimes fully and draping his clothes over the chair. Then he sat back and watched him. He observed the way Vimes' chest rose and fell, and how the lines disappeared from his face as he slept. He noticed with a smile the little curl of hair behind Vimes' ear, indicating the need for a haircut. In this unguarded state, Vimes looked almost child-like. Except, he thought, as he traced a fingertip over the ravaged torso, a child wouldn't have so many scars...

He wondered how many times Carrot had seen him like this. And had loved him.

He turned away.

He hadn't foreseen Vimes' need for the boy's admiration and approval...

Vetinari forced himself to look again at his handiwork.

"Oh, Sir Samuel," he said softly. "What have I done?"

-o0o-


	5. Chapter 5

**Broken**

**Chapter 5**

No one paid much attention to Drumknott as he slipped into The Bucket. It was crowded and smoke-filled, its customers mainly Watchmen coming off the last shift.

Only Mr. Cheese, the owner, took any interest as the clerk approached the bar.

"Evening, Mr. Drumknott. It's not often I have the pleasure of serving such a fine gentleman as yourself," he said. He winked conspiratorially and set a coaster down on the counter. "And if I might say so, sir, you look like a man in need of a stiff one."

Drumknott blinked. "Pardon?"

"A drink?" said Mr. Cheese helpfully. "What'll it be?"

"Oh, yes! Er, brandy, please. A large one."

A glass was filled and placed in front of Drumknott. Mr. Cheese watched as the clerk downed it in one, and then returned the empty glass to the bar.

"Same again, please," said Drumknott, fishing in his pocket for his wallet. He withdrew a large banknote and threw it on the counter. "Let me know when that runs out, would you?"

Mr. Cheese's eyes lit up. "Bad day?" he ventured, happily refilling the glass, while at the same time, gauging the clerk's potential for smashing up the furniture.

"Shocking," said Drumknott. "Quite shocking." He took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He wasn't troublemaking, he told himself. He'd _seen_ the Patrician and the commander together. And Carrot had a right to know. What Carrot actually _did_ about it was up to him.

Drumknott drained his glass. It was dutifully refilled.

He had to admit he felt better already, if slightly light-headed. It was hardly surprising, considering the excitement he'd had today. A shock like that could do strange things to a man. Perhaps it was best if Carrot sorted this out. After all, he'd dealt with the Patrician before. It was the sort of thing he was _good_ at...

Drumknott turned and peered into the gloom.

Carrot wasn't hard to spot; he was sitting at a table with another Watchman. Amazingly, he still managed to tower head and shoulders above the crowd.

Drumknott emptied his glass. It was obediently replenished.

He picked it up and approached the table.

"All I'm saying is, it should've been _me_," Carrot was saying. "It's not as if I don't know how to _do_ the job."

"And so does _he_, lad, and he was only doing what he was told." Sergeant Colon finished his beer. "D'you reckon you'll finish that drink tonight, Carrot, or what? C'mon, lad, it's my round."

Carrot absently emptied his glass and handed it to Colon, then stared off into the middle distance. "No, I suppose you're right," he said, as Colon ambled away. "And it's not as if it _really_ matters..."

"Evening, Carrot."

Carrot looked up. "Oh, hello, Drumknott! Gosh, you surprised me!"

"Yes, life's just full of surprises, isn't it?" said Drumknott sourly, sitting on the recently vacated stool. He shuffled nearer. "Er, now that you're alone, Carrot, I, um... I don't suppose we might have a quiet word?"

"Yes, of course, Drumknott. Although you realize I'm off duty?"

"Yes, yes, I appreciate that, and it's not exactly Watch business I wanted to talk to you about, Carrot. It's something a little more... personal."

"Oh?"

Drumknott glanced around; it was hard to tell if people were watching them, the excitement had affected his vision. "Carrot, I wonder if we might talk about the commander for a moment?"

"The commander? Drumknott, is everything all right?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure..." Drumknott adjusted his spectacles. "It's just that he's acting a little... odd."

"Odd?"

"Well, you know, doing things that are... unexpected."

"Oh," said Carrot glumly. "That."

"That?" Drumknott blinked at him.

Carrot sighed. "Yes, there's a very good reason for that, Drumknott. I thought perhaps the Patrician might have told you about it?"

"Er, no-oo..." Drumknott swayed in his seat; he wasn't sure how much excitement he could take in one day.

"Well, you knew it was all over between the commander and me, didn't you?"

Drumknott shook his head. "I didn't, but a picture is definitely emerging..."

"Yes," said Carrot sadly. "The commander took it quite badly."

"Well, that's one way of putting it..."

"I had no idea he'd be so upset."

"Definitely..."

"Although it's hoped he'll find comfort from those near to him."

"Nearer than you think..."

"What was that, Drumknott?"

"Nothing! Just thinking aloud."

"Drumknott? Do you know something I don't?"

Drumknott hesitated, and then buckled under Carrot's honest, blue gaze.

"Carrot, are you aware that certain people might take advantage of this situation?"

"No... What sort of people, Drumknott?"

"Well, you know, people in the right... position."

Carrot's forehead wrinkled. "Drumknott, you're not suggesting...?"

Drumknott looked awkward for a moment, and then slowly nodded .

Carrot took a deep breath. "It's all right, Drumknott, you don't have to say any more. I was afraid something like this might happen." He got up very calmly. "Well, I'm glad you brought this to my attention, Drumknott. Rest assured, I intend to sort it out very quickly." He moved towards the door, meeting a rather confused Sergeant Colon coming the other way.

"Where're you going, lad? I've just bought you a—"

Carrot muttered something and swept straight past him. The slam of the door shook the rafters.

"Well, what d'you think about _that_?" said Colon, returning to the table. "Oh, hello, Drumknott. Don't suppose you fancy a glass of milk?" He took a sip of his beer. "You know, I haven't a clue what's gotten into that lad lately, Drumknott. Whatever d'you suppose he wants to see Captain Noakes about at _this_ time of night?"

-o0o-

Someone was hammering on the door...

Noakes sat bolt upright in bed. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the clock; he'd been in bed for less than an hour. Thinking the disturbance must be some sort of emergency, he stumbled down the hallway in his pyjama bottoms, his eyes still half-closed with sleep.

The hammering continued.

"All right, all right, I'm coming..."

Noakes unlocked the door.

And found himself flat on his back, wondering why someone had turned the lights off.

"And that's just for starters," said Carrot, stepping inside and rubbing his knuckles.

Noakes blinked dazedly. "C-Carrot?"

"You just couldn't wait, could you? I should've _known _you were up to something."

"W-what?" Noakes tried to sit up; blood streamed from his nostrils.

"All those good deeds you were always doing; always putting yourself out for him. Well, it all makes sense to me now. It was just a way of wheedling your way into his affections, wasn't it?"

"C-Carrot... I-I don't know what you're—" Noakes attempted to stand, he stumbled backwards, and fell again.

"And you really thought I wouldn't _notice_?" said Carrot, standing over him. "Why, you were at it again this morning, weren't you? _I_ noticed how long you spent in his office!"

"Th-the commander?"

"Oh, so you admit it now?" said Carrot, stepping back. "Well, it doesn't surprise me, you always _were_ hopeless at lying. You know, I expected more of you, Noakes. You of _all_ people must have known how vulnerable he'd be. How could you take _advantage_ of him like that? You were supposed to be my _friend_!" He turned away in disgust and returned to the door. "I mean helping him to get over it is one thing, but actually _seeing_ him behind my back?"

Noakes' mind raced. So it _was_ over, then? That certainly explained the way Vimes was acting. But it made no sense. The pair of them had been inseparable...

Carrot's hand was on the doorknob.

"So what if I have, Carrot?" said Noakes suddenly. "Why should _you_ care?"

Carrot stopped and slowly turned around. "What?"

"Just because the commander means nothing to _you_ now, doesn't mean—"

"Who _said_ he meant nothing to me, Noakes?" Carrot's hands balled into fists.

"The commander told me everything, Carrot," Noakes lied; he knew it was a risk; Carrot had a punch like a jackhammer.

"This has nothing to do with you, Noakes," Carrot growled, advancing on him.

Noakes edged away on his elbows. "He _told_ me why you ended it, Carrot. He told me what you—"

Carrot lunged at him. "I did what I did to _protect_ him, you fool!"

Carrot was blind with fury, and Noakes went sprawling as Carrot landed on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Carrot grabbed Noakes' throat in a powerful hand, and raised an enormous fist.

"J-James?" said a voice suddenly.

They both looked up.

A young man was standing in the bedroom doorway.

Carrot was exasperated. "And _that_—" he said, pointing at the startled figure, "—Just makes things even _worse_!"

Noakes struggled to get up. "N-no, wait..." he said, as the young man started down the hallway. "I-I can explain..."

"Save your breath, James. I've heard more than enough already." The door swung open, and then closed on its own.

"Damn..." Noakes whispered.

Carrot got up and brushed himself off. Noakes climbed up too, and they both stood in silence, attempting to calm down. Noakes checked his nose; it didn't appear to be broken.

"What were you protecting him from, Carrot?" he asked quietly.

"What?" snapped Carrot.

"The commander. You said you were protecting him. But from what?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Himself," said Carrot coldly.

"But that makes no sense."

"It doesn't _have_ to make sense to you!"

"You lied to him, didn't you?"

"Of _course_ I lied to him! I _had_ to! It was for his own good!"

"Breaking his heart is for his own good?"

Carrot clenched his jaw. He didn't reply.

"You still care for him, don't you?" said Noakes softly.

"He doesn't need me, Noakes!"

"You haven't answered my question."

"Of _course_ I care for him! I never _stopped_ caring for him!"

"Then tell him!"

"I can't! I'd just be back where I started!"

"And where _was_ that, exactly?"

"You've seen what he's like, Noakes! And it's because of _me_ he's changed!"

"Changed?"

"I don't need to tell you! You _saw_ how he reacted when I was kidnapped!"

Noakes frowned. "Yes, but _you_ didn't..."

"Look, what does it matter? It _happened_!"

"Who have you been talking to, Carrot?"

"It's irrelevant, Noakes! It won't make a _difference_!"

"What do you mean?"

Carrot took a deep breath.

"I'm resigning," he said.

"_What_? In god's names _why_?"

"Everything's too complicated. I just want to put an end to it. It'll be best for everyone if I leave..."

"Why don't you let the commander be the judge of that, Carrot?"

Carrot hung his head.

"I mean you _are_ planning to tell him, aren't you?" said Noakes.

"I've written him a letter..."

"What?"

"He'll read it once I'm gone. He'll understand."

"_Carrot_!"

"I _can't_ give him a chance to try and stop me, Noakes!"

"Then if you won't, _I_ will."

Noakes stormed into the bedroom.

"Noakes, where are you going?"

"I'm going to put an end to this nonsense right now." Noakes grabbed a shirt and threw it on.

"You're _already_ too late. I'll be gone by the morning."

"Well, that still leaves plenty of time to tell him."

Carrot leaned against the doorframe. "I don't think you'll tell him, Noakes..."

"Oh, won't I? Well, just watch me." Noakes tugged up his trousers.

"No, and there's a good reason for that... there's someone who means a little _more_ to you than the commander, isn't there?"

Noakes grunted as he pulled on his boots. "Yes," he said. "And he's just walked out the door. What the hell difference does _that_ make?"

"I'm not talking about him, Noakes. And you know it." Carrot noted the slight hesitation in Noakes' actions.

Noakes reached for his jacket. "You're wasting your breath, Carrot. I'm not listening."

"Well, don't you think you ought to consider it?"

"There nothing to consider." Noakes pushed past him and moved out into the hallway.

"You know what would happen if I left, don't you?" said Carrot.

"Yes, you'd tear the commander's world apart."

"Perhaps. But then afterwards—"

"There won't be any _afterwards_. Because you're not leaving!"

"—He'd need to replace me. And you know what _that_ means, don't you?"

"Put a _sock_ in it, Carrot!"

"—You'd be Second-in-Command—"

"I'm _warning_ you...!"

"—That'd be a dream come true, wouldn't it? Because isn't that what you've always wanted? Isn't that the one thing that would please your _father_?"

Noakes raised an unsteady finger. "D-don't do this, Carrot..."

Carrot shook his head. "Did you really think telling the commander would be that easy, Noakes?"

Noakes didn't answer. His hand fell limply to his side.

"That's right, you think about that," said Carrot, returning to the door. "And then decide what's important to _you_..."

-o0o-


	6. Chapter 6

**Broken**

**Chapter 6**

Noakes stepped out onto Short Street. He looked at his hands; they were shaking. He clasped them together and stared down the street. The usual drunken stragglers were still milling around, wandering up from The Mended Drum. But apart from them, the rest of the city appeared to be asleep. He knew it was late, and the commander would probably be in bed, but... he hadn't ever _had_ another choice.

He couldn't allow Carrot to leave. It would cost the commander far more than an officer if he did. Besides, what sort of man would _he_ be, if he put himself before the integrity of the Watch?

He began making his way towards Vimes' house.

He couldn't understand why Carrot was leaving. Not when he still cared for the commander. The boy obviously meant well, but he was misguided. You didn't give up on something just because things were difficult; if something was important to you, then you should be prepared to fight for it. But Carrot was young; he still had a lot to learn. And one of the things he would discover was that, sometimes, personal and important amounted to the same thing...

It was odd that Carrot suspected something between the commander and himself. Heaven knows where he'd gotten that idea. Although, it was understandable, he supposed, given the circumstances. And it didn't _really_ matter; it'd brought things to a head, and it wasn't the first time he'd been floored. But he was pretty sure someone was influencing Carrot. Someone had to have _told_ him about the commander's concern over his kidnapping for a start. There's no way Carrot could have known that. And looking back, it wasn't hard to remember who'd been there. A certain hand on someone's shoulder _also_ sprang to mind...

Noakes realized that the part of his brain still in Watchman mode had caused him to notice a small group of people up ahead. Four men and a woman were larking about. At least, the men appeared to be having fun. Something about the woman's expression, however, told him the scene wasn't all it at first appeared...

Instinctively, he moved closer.

The woman spotted him. She eyed him critically, as if appraising him. Apparently satisfied, she then seemed to reach a decision. "Ah, here's my boyfriend now," she declared. "I told you he wouldn't be long."

Four faces turned towards Noakes.

He recognized the sort immediately; they trailed past his window every night. Emboldened by alcohol and no strangers to trouble, they were every woman's nightmare. And every man's too, if he got on the wrong side of them. The woman was looking at him expectantly.

"Everything all right?" he said.

The smallest of the four, the mouthpiece, Noakes decided, stepped up to him. "Of course. Why shouldn't it be? We was just inquiring whether your young lady needed any help getting home."

Noakes glanced at the three goons standing behind him. They were murmuring in agreement and nodding, clearly allowing someone else to do the thinking. One of them was watching Noakes intently, as if he recognized him. He hoped it wasn't someone who'd spent a night too many in the cells and was still bearing a grudge.

"Well, I thank you for your concern," said Noakes, gently taking the woman's arm. "But I think I can manage now." He shepherded the woman away, risking a quick glance at the goon who'd been staring; he'd leaned across to his companion and was now whispering to him. Both men now had their eyes fixed on him.

The woman gripped Noakes' hand; whether for assurance or appearance, he wasn't sure.

They managed a few steps.

"You know, it ain't gentlemanly leaving a lady standing around for so long," said a voice behind him.

Noakes' stomach turned to lead.

"I'll take your advice," he said, attempting to move forward. But there was movement on either side of him.

"It's a dangerous place, the streets, see. _Especially_ for ladies..." The one Noakes had mentally nicknamed 'mouthpiece' stepped out in front of him.

"Well, I can assure you this particular lady will be safe with me," said Noakes.

Mouthpiece grinned. "Oh, I've no doubts about that. _Any _lady would be safe with you, I expect."

The grip on Noakes' hand tightened; behind them, someone sniggered.

"Look, why don't you just let us go home?" said the woman. "What's wrong with you people?"

"Nothing wrong with us, Miss," said Mouthpiece. "But you might want to take more care in choosing your boyfriends."

The woman gave Noakes a sideways glance. "What are you talking about? What's wrong with the one I have?"

Mouthpiece leaned forward and thrust his chin in Noakes' face.

"He's a _faggot_," he said.

Noakes winced; but the words didn't cut him half as much as the look the woman gave him.

She pulled away.

Noakes closed his eyes.

"That's right, Miss, you run along now," said Mouthpiece. "You don't want to be seen with the likes of him." He cracked his knuckles.

Noakes felt the woman looking at him and sensed her hesitation. He didn't look at her. "Go," he said softly.

She turned and fled.

Noakes looked up. Lights began winking off along the street, reminding him not only of the late hour, but also of how alone he was. No fear showed in his eyes, however, only sadness. Experience told him there were two ways this could go; he could either stay and talk, or he could stay and fight. He had time for neither.

"I'll bet he fights just like a woman," quipped Mouthpiece. The comment was greeted by howls of laughter.

"Shouldn't be a problem for you, then," said Noakes quietly. "Since you normally pick on ladies."

The ensuing laughter was quickly silenced by a sharp look from Mouthpiece. He turned to face Noakes.

"You have a lot of lip, Faggot," he snarled.

"And you have a dirty mouth," said Noakes.

A blade flashed in the dark; the goons stepped back.

Mouthpiece made a few elaborate gestures with the blade.

Noakes was unimpressed. "Don't wave that thing at me unless you intend using it," he said quietly.

Mouthpiece lunged at him.

Noakes sidestepped easily and knocked the weapon from his hand. His fist found the man's stomach and then an elbow to the ear left the man rolling on the ground in agony. Noakes kicked the blade away and turned to face the others. "Now, I'd really like to stay and play with you," he said coldly. "But unfortunately, I'm a busy man. So why don't you just run along now, and let me go about my business?"

The goons looked at each other. There was general murmuring, and two of them made to leave.

But the last one was watching the ground behind Noakes.

Noakes knew what he was looking at; he'd already heard Mouthpiece struggling to get up.

_Just stay down..._ he thought.

But the man was determined; he'd lost face in front of the goons, and he was livid.

The goons who'd been leaving came back...

"_What are you waiting for_?" yelled Mouthpiece. "_There's only one of him_! _He's not even arm_—"

The man hadn't been quite to his feet, but Noakes was able to overcome his scruples about hitting a downed man, and struck him _hard_ on the chin.

There was silence.

But Noakes knew he'd only postponed the inevitable...

Now, the goons were thinking.

And then, they rushed him.

At the end of Short Street, the woman slowed to a halt and glanced back. The man who had stopped to help her was fighting valiantly, but it was clear he couldn't last. Even as she watched, two of the men held his arms while another pummelled him mercilessly. She looked around in desperation, hoping someone would step in. But Short Street was deserted.

She saw the man go down, and knew what would follow...

So she ran on, unable to help and unwilling to watch.

-o0o-

Finally secure in his tatty office chair, Vimes sat and stared into space...

The clock on the wall said: 5:32 a.m.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd come to work this early. But then, he couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up in the Patrician's bed wearing nothing more than black silk pyjamas...

The good news was that it had cured his hangover instantly.

The bad news was that he couldn't quite remember how he'd got there...

He'd been drinking; he knew that much, and he knew _why_, and he wasn't about to start mulling _that_ over again. He wasn't up to it. Not yet.

Beyond that, though, all he could remember was his anger.

Gods, did he remember his anger...

He'd gone to the palace and told the Patrician exactly what he thought of him. All the emotions he'd bottled up for so long, suddenly finding an outlet. Gods, he'd exploded, hadn't he?

And he'd expected a decent fight...

But what had the Patrician done? He'd undressed him and put him to bed.

_Bastard_.

He was pretty sure that had been done for Sybil's benefit. And he was actually grateful for that; it was one thing to hurt him, it was quite another to hurt Sybil. But he had a sneaking suspicion _he_ hadn't even begun to pay for this yet...

It suddenly occurred to him that it might have been Drumknott who'd undressed him. He wondered how badly he'd upset him with his outburst, and what a vengeful clerk might be capable of when left alone with a sleeping, but above all naked, individual...

He tried desperately not to think about paper knives.

No, far better to focus on the Watch rota...

The clock on the wall said: 5:55 a.m.

Noakes was on early this morning, wasn't he?

Vimes felt a sudden twinge of annoyance. Any other day Noakes would have been here by now, he normally arrived way before his shift was due. It was typical that on the one morning he would have liked someone to talk to, Noakes had decided to arrive dead on ti—

The door suddenly flew open and Cheery burst in.

"Oh, sir! Thank gods you're here! You have to come quickly!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Officer down, sir!"

Vimes flew out of his chair. "Oh, gods... Who?"

"Captain Noakes, sir. He's been _creamed_!"

"_What_? When? What happened?"

"We're not sure, sir!"

"Well, hasn't anyone _asked_ him? What did he say?"

"He didn't say _anything_, sir. He can't talk!"

-o0o-


	7. Chapter 7

**Broken**

**Chapter 7**

Early morning sunlight filtered through the dusty window. It illuminated the little bedroom, where a suitcase was lying, fully packed, on the bed.

Carrot sat, staring at it...

He didn't _really_ want to leave. He just felt it was the right thing to do.

The commander had always been keen on him doing the right thing. Admittedly, it _looked_ like he was running away, but after reading his letter, the commander would soon realize he was doing him a favour. After he'd gone, things could get back to normal. The commander would be able to forget about him and concentrate on the things that _mattered_, like running the Watch and electing a new Second-in-Command.

It wasn't as if their relationship was important to him anymore...

The commander probably hated him now.

But, Carrot mused, it _had_ been good, hadn't it?

The commander had told him he loved him. True, he'd only said it once, but the commander had never been good with words; not _those_ sorts of words anyway, and the fact that he'd said it at _all_ only made it more special.

What they'd shared had been special...

It was the little things he remembered the most. Like the times when the office was quiet, and he'd glance over at the commander and watch him while he worked, and the commander would sometimes look up at him and smile; that funny little smile that made his eyes crease up, and looked a bit like a mischievous grin.

Carrot liked that smile.

The commander smiled a lot more in those days.

He thought it would stay that way forever.

But then he'd been kidnapped...

And everything had changed.

A letter was lying on the bedside table; it was addressed to the commander.

Carrot was still holding the pen he'd used to write it.

He looked down at it, turning it over in his hands.

The commander never did come back to collect his things...

He thought about taking the pen as a keepsake, but then realized everything he needed he already had; it was inside of him. The commander was a _part_ of him now, and always would be.

And whatever else had happened, he _had_ loved him.

Carrot looked up.

The sun was climbing higher now, appearing just above the rooftops.

It looked like being a nice day.

Carrot tried to smile, and took one last look around the room...

-o0o-

Vimes hurried over Contract Bridge. Cheery was in tow, trying to keep up.

"All right, start again from the beginning," said Vimes. "You say someone took Captain Noakes to Mossy Lawn's?"

"Yes, sir. Whoever it was left him lying on the doorstep and then ran off, sir. Mossy said he didn't see who it was. But he thinks it must have been more than one person, sir. The captain's quite tall and he was a dead weight, sir. Mossy said he had to struggle to get him inside."

"Right. Where the hell's Carrot? He ought to be here by now."

"Er, he's not actually due in yet, sir..."

"Oh. And when did this happen, did you say?"

"Early hours of this morning, sir." Cheery skipped to keep up. "But Mossy thinks the incident may have happened earlier, sir. The captain was stone cold, he said, sir. He thought he was dead."

Vimes stopped; sudden images of what Noakes might look like crossing his mind. "All right, Cheery," he said. "You don't need to be here too. I can see to it from here. Go back to the yard and, er... keep a look out for Carrot for me, would you?"

"Yessir. Thank you, sir."

When Vimes eventually arrived at Mossy's, Noakes was lying on a table. A white sheet covered him from the neck down. Surprisingly, his face looked unmarked; if you didn't know better, you might think he was asleep.

"But I thought..." Vimes began. "One of my officers told me he'd been creamed."

Lawn moved away from the sink, and smiled. "An interesting diagnosis," he said, shaking water from his hands; he grabbed a towel. "And pretty accurate too, I'd say. It just appears his assailants weren't interested in his face." Mossy dried one hand and pulled back the sheet.

"Dear gods..." Vimes whispered.

"And that's after I've cleaned him up, of course."

Vimes moved closer.

Noakes was naked. He looked as if he'd been trampled over by stampeding cattle. Ugly purple bruises covered him from his chest to his shins, including all the sensitive areas in between.

"It probably looks worse than it is," said Lawn. "There's a couple of broken ribs and he's sustained a concussion, but his injuries are mostly superficial."

"How can you call _that_ superficial?" said Vimes.

"Oh, I've seen a lot worse, believe me. Bar brawls can be particularly nasty."

"Is that what you think this was?"

"It's possible. He'd vomited."

"But he doesn't drink."

Lawn winced. "Ah, of course. Pity. He'd certainly have felt less if he had. Still, no harm done as long as he wasn't planning on becoming a father." He smiled faintly. "And there's little chance of that, I think."

"Wait a minute... you _know_ him?"

Lawn nodded. "I delivered him; long time ago, of course. Tricky birth... lost the mother." He finished drying his hands and threw the towel in a corner. "The father blamed the child for his wife's death, that's why I remembered him. Hardly wanted to know the boy when he was growing up. Fascinating, the ways in which people react to stress, don't you think?"

"Er, yes..." said Vimes. "And the, er... other?"

"His lack of interest in the ladies, you mean?" Lawn smiled. "Oh, he's never kept that a secret. Although his father took a dim view of it, as you can imagine. And by the time he found out, the boy was old enough for a hiding. I sometimes think the poor lad spent more time sitting on my table than he spent at home." His smile faded. "Small wonder he grew up with an abhorrence to violence."

"I never knew..."

"And why should you?"

"Still, I can't help thinking it's an odd trait for a Watchman?"

"Oh, joining the Watch was his father's idea - he thought it would make a man of him. I also heard he _was_ pleased when his son made captain.

"Well, that wasn't a difficult decision. He's a good officer."

"And a good man. He didn't deserve this that's for sure.

Vimes looked down at Noakes' broken body.

"Why would anyone want to beat Noakes senseless?" he said.

"Well, strictly speaking, they didn't..."

Lawn beckoned Vimes over, and then turned Noakes' head to one side. He parted the dark hair, revealing a two-inch gash. "See that?" he said. "Five stitches I put in there."

"Someone _coshed_ him?"

"No, it's the wrong angle. I think he fell, or was pushed, and hit his head on a curbstone. The scalp's rich in blood vessels, he'd have bled like a gutted pig. I'm guessing that's when his attackers ran off. They probably thought they'd killed him."

"It's nothing compared to what I'll do to _them_ if I ever... Damnit, you don't do _this_ to a man just to nick a few bob!"

"Oh, he wasn't mugged either. His possessions were still on him, as far as I could tell anyway. He was still carrying money and other items of value." Lawn moved over to his bench and picked up a brown paper envelope. "I put everything in there while I cleaned him up." He handed the envelope to Vimes.

Vimes dropped onto a wooden chair and took the envelope; he tipped the contents into his palm. The envelope contained several banknotes and loose change, a neatly folded handkerchief, a key, and a ring on a chain. Vimes picked up the ring and examined it. It was a plain gold band, and on the inside it was inscribed: 'To James, love always, Will.'

"Will's his partner," Lawn supplied.

Vimes nodded. "Yes, I know. I met him once." He tipped the contents back into the envelope. "Has anyone informed him about this?"

"I sent someone round as soon as Noakes was brought in, but there was no one home. A note's been left, however, telling Will what's happened. I doubt he's gone far; they're hardly ever out of each other's sight. Oh, and before I forget, there was this too..." Lawn reached across to his bench and retrieved a smaller, rather crumpled envelope. "I was going to deliver it myself, but since you're here..."

Vimes took it. "What's this?" He turned it over in his hand. The envelope was addressed to him. Across the top, the word 'personal' was printed, and then, at the bottom, someone had written what appeared to be the word 'important'. It was underlined.

Vimes opened it, mystified.

Inside was a note, written in Noakes' neat script. Within it, several more words were underlined; 'personal' and 'important' were prominent. Towards the end, the writing appeared less neat, as if the writer had rushed to get it finished.

Vimes' chair clattered to the floor.

"Oh, gods... _I have to find Carrot_!"

-o0o-


	8. Chapter 8

**Broken**

**Chapter 8**

Carrot hauled the suitcase off the bed. This was no good; he'd wasted far too much time reminiscing. He really ought to be—

The door flew open and slammed back against the wall.

"_Going_ somewhere, Carrot?" Vimes was out of breath; he was white with rage.

"_S-sir_! H-how did you—?"

Vimes stalked towards him. "I'll give you one guess, Carrot..."

Carrot backed away, colliding clumsily with the bedside table. "N-Noakes told you?"

"That's right, Carrot! And he's now lying half-dead on Mossy Lawn's table for his troubles!"

"W-what...?"

Vimes thrust Noakes' letter in Carrot's face. "He had the seven hells beaten out of him trying to get _this_ to me! So, is _this_ what you do? You go round to Noakes and tell him everything, while you leave me in the _dark_?"

"N-no... he _made_ me tell him! He twisted everything around! But he had no _right_ interfering!"

"Well, it's a damn good job he _did, _Carrot! Because if it were left to you the Watch would be in a right sorry state, wouldn't it? He obviously cares a damn sight more than _you_ do!"

"_N-no_... that's not true!" Carrot scrabbled frantically for his own letter, snatching it up and waving it in front of him. "L-look... I've written you a letter too!"

Vimes snatched it away angrily. "And you think _that_ makes everything all right, do you?" he snarled. "Well, I'll show you what I think of your damn letter, Carrot..." He tore it to shreds.

"But, _sir_...! You haven't even read it! I spent ages—"

Vimes' face turned scarlet. "Well, you could've saved yourself the damn trouble if you'd said it to my _face_!"

"S-stop shouting, sir..."

"Stop shouting? Stop _shouting_? Ye gods, Carrot, do you think I'm made of _stone_? I can't believe you would do this! This is _unforgivable_!"

Carrot's face creased up. "D-don't say that, sir..."

Vimes shook his head incredulously. "Have you any idea how much you've _hurt_ me already? _Have_ you? I would have done anything for you! _Anything_! And _this—_" He kicked the shreds of paper on the floor. "­­—Is _this_ all it amounts to? A damn piece of _paper_?"

Carrot's lip started to tremble. "You _know_ it's not... I thought Noakes would have _told_ you that!"

"Told me what? That you thought you'd become a liability to me all of a sudden? What in the hells is _that_ supposed to mean? As for all that 'personal isn't the same as important' nonsense, I've heard it all before, Carrot! It means _nothing_! If none of this was important to you then why did you damn well _start_ it?"

Carrot let out a strangled sob. "Because I _love_ you...!" he wailed.

"Oh, give it a rest, Carrot..."

Carrot sank to his knees, sobbing. "Well what was I _supposed_ to do?" he yelled. "Let you carry on until you got yourself _killed_?"

"What?"

"You left me no _choice_! If I hadn't ended it when I did, there was no telling _what_ you might do next!"

"What are you talking about, Carrot?"

"_You_! The way you go charging around with no thought for those who love you! How do you think I'd have felt if you'd died because of _me_?"

"Whoa... slow down, Carrot."

Carrot's big shoulders shook. "You almost died trying to save me, Sam... The thought of that was killing me. That's why I ended it... I'd rather give you up than lose you altogether..."

Vimes sank to his knees with him. "But I knew what I was doing, you silly bugger..."

Carrot looked up, teary-eyed. "I-I was scared, Sam... I lied when I said I didn't love you anymore... I-I thought if you stopped loving me, then you wouldn't take any more chances for me..."

"Oh, Carrot, that wouldn't have made a difference..."

Carrot took a huge gulp of air. "B-but you did it because you care..."

"Well, of course I care, but that has nothing to do with _us_. That's who I am. I'd have done the same thing regardless of how I felt about you. I can't _not_ care, Carrot. I don't know _how_ to."

"B-but I didn't know that... I-I was just trying to look out for you, Sam... L-like you're always doing for me..."

"Oh, Carrot..." Vimes couldn't help but kiss his face.

"I-I never meant to hurt you... a-and I don't want to leave either... but I've ruined everything... a-and now you hate me..."

Vimes held Carrot's tear-stained face in his hands. "Oh, Carrot, I don't hate you..."

Carrot sniffed miserably, and wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. "D-does that mean I can come back, then?"

Vimes smiled at him. "But you haven't gone anywhere, you silly bugger. You never did."

"Oh, Sam..." Carrot threw his arms around Vimes' neck.

They held on to one another.

And suddenly, words no longer seemed necessary...

-o0o-

Mossy was tidying his bench when the door opened quietly behind him.

He smiled.

"I didn't think you'd be far away," he said.

A sandy-haired young man came across the room and sat down beside Noakes. He studied his pale features for a while, and then swept the dark hair off his forehead.

"What happened to him?" he said softly.

"Well, we won't know that until he wakes up," said Lawn.

"But he's going to be all right, isn't he?"

"Oh, I'm certain of it. I don't need to tell you what a tough fellow he is."

"Yeah, on the outside maybe..." Will forced a smile. "Can he hear us?"

"Well, there's no way of telling. But you might try talking to him. It can't do any harm, and it may even help." Lawn gave him a kindly smile and then went back to tidying his bench.

Will waited until Mossy appeared to be no longer listening. Then he picked up a limp hand. He held it gently, running his thumb across the knuckles where fresh scrapes criss-crossed old scars.

"I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?" he said quietly. "Look at you, you're a mess. And I thought you were the one who's supposed to be looking out for me?" He looked up, watching for a change in the pallid features. "Who were you trying to protect this time, eh? You can't take care of everyone, you know. And whatever happened to us growing old together? You're never going to manage that if you go charging off on some crusade every time my back is turned, are you?"

Noakes remained motionless.

Will sighed. "Is this what I came back for?" he said sadly. "To sit here talking to myself? How many more times do you expect the good doctor to patch you up, eh? You think he doesn't have better things to do with his time? He must be fed up with you, I should think..."

Will looked along the length of the table, acknowledging the white sheet but making no attempt to lift it.

"And so am I..." he sighed. "I'm fed up with worrying about you. Why do you insist on doing this job anyway? You've got nothing left to prove, you could have packed this in _years_ ago..." He paused while he searched for something else to say, when nothing was forthcoming, he leaned forwards and pressed the limp hand to his forehead. "Don't be gone too long, James. I need you..."

The hand lying in his, twitched.

Will looked up. "James?"

Noakes licked dry lips. "C... Car..."

Will got up. "Dr. Lawn! I think he's coming round!"

Noakes tried to raise himself. "Car... Carrot..."

Lawn came over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Commander Vimes has gone to find him, James. I gave him your letter. That was all right, wasn't it?"

Noakes nodded weakly, and allowed himself to be lowered. His eyes closed.

Will looked crestfallen.

Lawn noted the look on his face. "Watch business..." he said. "Very important, I think."

"Oh..." Will reached to the front of his shirt, feeling for the chain around his neck and the ring that was hanging on it; he pressed it reassuringly against his chest. He turned back to Noakes. "James?" he whispered. "A-are you still there?"

"I'm here..."

Will brightened up.

"I came back," he said.

Noakes smiled. "I hoped you would..."

"I hoped too. Hoped I'd made a mistake and that you weren't really about to throw it all away."

"Why would I want to do that, Will? You know how long it took me to find you."

"Yeah... same here. I've been talking to you."

Noakes squeezed his hand. "I heard you, Will..."

"Yeah, well... don't think just because I'm back that I've forgiven you. You still have a lot of explaining to do."

Noakes nodded. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, Will. How long have you got?"

Will smiled. "For you? All the time in the world..."

-o0o-

Vetinari stood looking out the window. He had his back to Drumknott, possibly because he couldn't stop smiling...

"So, let's just run through this again," he said. "After the... misunderstanding with Captain Carrot, he did what, did you say?

"Like I said, sir, he charged off before I could stop him. By the time I'd caught up with him again, he'd already hit Captain Noakes and they were arguing, sir. I could hear them out in the street."

"And, naturally, you stopped to listen..."

"Well, yes, I..." Drumknott looked shamefaced. "Well, anyway, that's when the young man came storming out, followed shortly afterwards by Captain Carrot. Who, like I said, sir, looked mightily pleased with himself."

"But you didn't go after him again?"

"No, sir. I was thinking about it, but then I had to make myself scarce when Captain Noakes came out too. He looked awful, sir, visibly shaken. And when I realized he was heading off in the direction of the Ramkin Residence - to complain no doubt - I just _knew_ there was going to be trouble. That's when I came back here, sir, and, er... confessed.

"Of course."

There was an unbearably long pause while Vetinari continued to gaze out the window; deliberate, of course, it would allow Drumknott time to contemplate the consequences of his actions. After all, he was just a _little_ annoyed with the clerk...

Drumknott waited like a man about to be sentenced.

"Well, you did the right thing, Drumknott," said Vetinari at last. "Heaven knows where this nonsense might have led if you hadn't."

"No, sir. I'm sorry, sir..."

"All's well that ends well, I suppose..."

"Yes, sir..."

"Well, now that everything's sorted, Drumknott, please don't let me keep you any longer."

"Sir?"

"You may go."

"That's it, sir?"

"I'm sorry? Was there something else?"

"You're just letting me off—I mean—go, sir?"

"Why yes, didn't you say you had a heavy schedule in the morning?"

"Er, yes, sir..."

"Then perhaps an early night is in order?"

"An early night, sir?"

"Yes, and perhaps I'll join you," said the Patrician cheerfully.

"Sir...?"

"Oh, dear boy, do close your mouth."

"Yes, sir..."

"And go to _bed_!"

Drumknott fled, refusing to believe the Patrician just winked at him.

Vetinari returned to the window.

Well, well... So the quiet captain hadn't been so quiet, after all...

He felt inclined to like Noakes; he was fiercely loyal to Vimes and he was bright. He'd played an important role in Carrot's rescue; acting of his own volition when he believed the commander was in danger.

Which was the very reason he'd had Noakes followed the moment he learned he was involved in this...

It was safe to assume Noakes had deduced the truth. But while he'd undoubtedly told Vimes why Carrot had ended it - thereby ensuring their reunion - it appears he _hadn't_ told Vimes where the idea had originated. Had he done so, of course, all hell would have broken loose by now. And Noakes hadn't been anywhere _near_ Vimes on the night in question, and yet he'd led Carrot to believe that he had. Not only had he tricked Carrot into revealing relevant information, but he'd also saved another potentially embarrassing scene at the palace.

He was _definitely_ a man to watch...

It was such a shame about his beating. No one could have foreseen that, however, and by the time Noakes had been reached by his agents, they could do no more than get him to a good doctor. Which they'd done, of course, and then remained in the area to monitor developments...

And it appeared to be a favourable outcome all round: everything had been explained to Drumknott; Noakes' young man had returned, and Carrot was back with his beloved commander; who, no doubt, would be less reckless in future knowing now why Carrot had ended it.

All's well that ends well...

Indeed, it was.

-o0o-

And as another day came to a close, the setting sun filled the little bedroom with crimson. And on the bed, in a world of their own, two people cuddled up.

"Just like old times, eh?" said Carrot happily, snuggling into Vimes.

Vimes couldn't suppress his smile. "Carrot, it's only been two days..."

"I know, but it _feels_ like a lifetime."

_Yes, it does_, thought Vimes. _And who would've believed it?_

"Why do you think Noakes stopped me from leaving?" Carrot pondered. "He could have gained so _much_ if I'd left."

Vimes sighed. "Well, only Noakes can tell you that, Carrot. All I know is, he said he wouldn't stand by and watch you make that kind of sacrifice."

"Yet he made such a sacrifice himself?" Carrot lifted his head and looked at him. "You know what it meant to him, and how easily he could have taken my place?"

"He could never do that, Carrot..."

"Of course he could. He knows how to—"

"That's not what I meant, you daft sod."

Carrot searched Vimes' face. And then realization suddenly dawned, and he beamed and snuggled in again. "Oh, Sam, I love you so much... I've _always_ loved you. And you love me too, right?"

Vimes held him close and closed his eyes; Carrot's eyes were closed too, and it took Vimes a moment to realize Carrot had actually nodded off to sleep. He wondered what it said about their relationship that Carrot had asked him that question without really expecting an answer...

He looked down at his young, innocent face, wondering what on the Disc he wouldn't do to protect him.

"Do I love you?" he said softly. "Carrot, I'd _die_ for you."

-o0o-

The End.


End file.
